


Broken Souls Heal Broken Hearts

by MadameCissy



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCissy/pseuds/MadameCissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They need a safe haven. They need a shelter. They need each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Souls Heal Broken Hearts

_You run away_  
_You hide away  
To the other side of the universe  
Where you're safe from all that hunts you down _

_~Within Temptation – Fire and Ice_

She knew it would happen eventually. There was going to be a day where she would look up into the face of another mother and see the grief, would hear "please, no" whispered, begged and then screamed over and over again. She knew there would be a day where she would bear witness to a heart being shattered and a little bit of a soul dying at the same time the child did.

Today was that day.

Today she saw it. Today she heard it. Another woman's voice sounding just like her own. The same grief. The same loss. The same despair. The same and yet so many miles apart. Because she'd had time to find a place for her loss, to accept it - if one ever could accept the loss of a child - and this woman was only now facing her journey through darkness, through the hell that was losing a part of herself. She was a stranger and yet Christa felt she knew this woman better than she knew anybody else in that room.

He'd been only eight and the paramedics had brought the mangled remains of his bike in with them when he was rushed into the ER. The drunk driver responsible for the crash lay on a stretcher two cubicles away from the child whose life hung in the balance because of his choice to get behind the wheel. There was a thought, for a moment, to call all medical personnel away from him and leave him to suffer, to die, but she didn't. The fact she wanted to didn't change anything about the fact that her job was to save lives, no matter who they were or what they'd done.

She would hear the sound of the flat line for days to come. Would see the frightened look in the mother's eyes when she arrived in the ER accompanied by two uniformed police officers, frantically looking for her son, in her dreams for weeks. She'd hear the cry for the rest of her life. Some things never leave.

Christa closed the door to her locker. The sound of it falling into its lock echoed briefly around the room. Hollow, like she felt inside. Her body ached, protested against every move, and her bones were tired. Having swapped her scrubs for jeans and a sweatshirt, it still didn't feel like she could leave today's events behind. They would follow her through the corridor and into the train and eventually into her home.

She was the last to leave. Shift ended an hour ago. Everyone else had gone home, or wherever they went to forget about a day like today, but she'd withdrawn into the showers, sitting down on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest in the hope that the smell of shampoo and the lashing of the hot water against her skin could wash away the guilt.

It couldn't.

Now, with her hair still wet and her rug sack hanging off one shoulder, she was about to leave the locker room when the door opened. Doctor Leanne Rorish walked in, still in her dark blue scrubs and with her glasses on her head. She looked tired. Dark rings surrounded her eyes. She froze when she saw Christa, like she had expected to find the locker room empty at this time. Perhaps that was why she had waited so long, Christa thought. After all, it was the same reason she was still here.

"Doctor Rorish." Christa stepped aside to let Leanne pass. In doing so, their gazes locked.

There had been another person in the room today who felt what Christa felt, who had looked at the drunk driver with the same disgust and who had looked at the mother with the same recognition. Leanne Rorish knew how it felt. She knew what it was like to truly be alone.

"Christa."

There was a silence. It lasted too long and felt too heavy. They both knew, both felt it. They shared something no one else could even begin to understand. It created a bond between people even if they didn't want to. They were the same even if their stories were different. In the other they saw a kindred spirit drifting on the endless ocean of loss and grief. They shared the moment where they had faced the first Christmas morning without the sound of children's laughter and they both no longer heard the whisper of "good night" or "I love you, mommy" at night.

"Are you ok?"

Christa blinked at the question. She'd been staring at Leanne without realising it, or without really seeing her, and now that the older woman spoke, she felt her cheeks burn red.

"Fine."

Leanne knew Christa lied. She knew because she herself most definitely didn't feel fine.

Christa went to turn to open the door but Leanne stopped her, put a hand on the blonde doctor's arm. As if stung by a bee, Christa pulled her arm away and Leanne regretted the indiscretion almost immediately. She let her hand fall back down beside her body and quickly apologised, "Sorry."

"It's ok." Christa couldn't look at the older woman, too afraid that the emotions bubbling just beneath the surface would spill over and reflect in her eyes. "I uhm... I should go."

Softly, Leanne said, "Christa, wait."

Christa waited. She didn't know why.

"Would you..." Leanne was surprised at herself for what she was about to do, was about to ask. She was known for her impulsive and sometimes almost erratic actions in the ER, but not anywhere else. She was guarded and felt safe behind the walls she had built around herself. It was how she survived. "There's a coffee place just round the corner from here. Would you maybe like to get some coffee?"

Christa looked up. Leanne looked fragile, she realised. Tired, worn out. The grief had left its markings on her face and it seemed that the images from last night had only enhanced those marks. She shook her head and thought of the little toy truck she kept in her locker. A silent reminder of what she'd had and lost.

"I just want to leave."

A hesitation. A single moment where she read the space between them, heard the question before it was even spoken out loud. Blue eyes found brown. A single heartbeat, then another. Unspoken but understood. Her hand still on the door handle, the metal cold against her skin. Grounding her, keeping her in this reality.

Another second. The hesitation was gone. She had sensed the tension between them before. Now it was inevitable. It was there, open and obvious between them. It went beyond understanding, went even beyond appreciation. It was more… So much more and perhaps it was not until now that she was prepared to admit that. She was only now prepared to admit that what kept her going since coming here, since walking through these doors, were the eyes that now stared back at her in expectation.

They weren't friends. Leanne was her boss. But they were more than strangers, were more than even the best of friends could ever be. In their feelings they were equals.

"But I don't want to be alone."

It was a silent understanding, one that didn't warrant words. Christa opened the locker room and stepped out into the busy hallway, her heart thundering in her chest. She heard the familiar sounds of the ER coming from behind the double doors. Her stomach did a double flip when she became aware of Leanne standing closely behind her and felt her hand against her lower back.

"Go," Leanne whispered.

She followed Christa out of the locker room without saying anything else and fell into step beside the blonde. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor and Christa was afraid that if she looked at the brunette, Leanne would change her mind. They walked towards the ER's exit doors and Christa held it open for Leanne. The morning light was blinding and for a moment it confronted both of them with what they were about to do. Things always looked different in the cruel bright light of day. This was no exception.

Leanne turned slightly, brown eyes briefly finding blue. Christa held her breath, waited for the dismissal, but it didn't come. She saw the depth of Leanne's grief, how much she had pushed away and hidden from the world and herself, fill the brunette's eyes. The events of the hours before had ripped open all the wounds that had only just begun to heal. They lay open, raw and naked, for the whole wide world to see.

Christa climbed into the passenger seat of Leanne's car and buckled up. She folded her hands in her lap and said a silent prayer of thanks when the car radio kicked in when Leanne turned the key and blasted some music into the car. The radio host announced that morning rush hour traffic was awful, which was no surprise considering traffic in LA was always awful. Christa was glad for the distraction because she wasn't sure she could've coped with the silence for the duration of the drive. She didn't ask where they were going but suspected Leanne shared her line of thought. When after twenty-five minutes Leanne pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, Christa knew she was right.

There was still time to turn around, time to walk away and pretend this hadn't happened. Leanne switched off the engine but didn't move, didn't look at her companion. Christa knew she was waiting to see if she would flee. Seconds turned into minutes and eventually, with her heart thundering in her throat, Christa opened the car door and got out.

There was something cold and calculated about walking into a hotel and asking for a room for just one day. She went to the desk alone and the young man dressed in an impeccable uniform didn't blink once at her request. Yet Christa felt that she was about to stumble into something dirty, something that needed to be hidden but she couldn't go home. Not for this. She swiped her credit card, thanked the receptionist and headed towards the elevator. When the door swung open, Leanne appeared at her side out of nowhere and quietly they stepped inside. The doors closed behind them and Christa tried not to feel confronted by the mirrors that surrounded them.

The elevator doors slid open and they silently made their way down the corridor. Christa swiped the key card and the door buzzed, signalling it was unlocked. She opened it and stepped inside. Leanne was right behind her and when the door closed, Christa slowly released her breath. She didn't turn around. Something stopped her. There was one last hurdle, a final boundary... But when she felt Leanne's fingers on the inside of her wrist, like a silent request, she turned around and their mouths crashed together.

Her hands moved without thinking. She found the hem of Leanne's scrubs and pulled them over her head. The blue fabric peeled away from the brunette's body effortlessly and revealed a simple black bra underneath. The older woman's body was stunning, Christa thought. Her stomach bore the signs of pregnancy and her breasts were full. A fine layer of freckles covered her skin, as if someone had dusted them over her body with a paint brush.

Leanne's hands were in Christa's hair, fingering the thick blonde locks as she pulled her deeper and harder into the kiss. She was desperate to feel something, anything. She needed to feel warm skin under her hands, desperately needed to feel another body pressed against her own. She wanted the loneliness to go away, for the shadows to stop haunting her. The walls crumbled brick by brick and she slowly came undone.

She pushed Christa towards the bed and Christa's knees buckled when she bumped into the mattress. She landed on her back and Leanne fell on top of her, using the opportunity to pull up Christa's sweater. Christa whimpered when she felt Leanne's hands roam over her stomach. She knew Leanne could see the faded stretchmarks, the scar left behind by the piercing she'd had in her belly button for years.

"Why are you here?" Christa whispered when Leanne pulled away for a moment. Leanne's lips were full and bruised from the kiss.

Christa stared up at the dark haired woman hovering over her. Leanne's eyes had darkened and her pupils dilated. There was something almost predatory and hungry about her. It set fire to something in the pit of Christa's stomach.

"Because you want me to be here," Leanne answered. Her fingers ghosted first over Christa's stomach, circling the stretchmarks, a silent reminder of a different life. She carried on, her nails grazing over the blonde's rib cage until she encountered the wire of Christa's bra. It had been too long since she had touched another person, too long since she had even wanted to.

"I am here because I want to be here."

"OK," Christa whispered and reached up to free Leanne's hair from her ponytail. The dark locks cascaded down the older woman's shoulders and Christa carefully reached around Leanne's back and unhooked her bra. The fabric slipped away, exposing Leanne's breasts. She laid back when Leanne pulled her sweater over her head, followed by her bra and eagerly lifted her hips off the bed when the brunette unbuttoned and then unzipped her jeans. Her panties barely covered the C-section scar and she knew Leanne could see it. It was another reminder of just how much alike they were, what they shared.

Finding herself wrapped up in Leanne's arms, sheets tangled around their naked bodies, felt comforting and delicate. In these moments the pain and the shadows did not exist and they were no longer just two people who had witnessed tragedy and experienced loss, but they were simply human and for a while they could forget anything beyond the walls of the hotel room they now found themselves in.

There was no name she could give to it, the way she felt. But she was drawn to Leanne and had been from the moment their paths crossed. She was too old to still believe in crushes and she certainly didn't buy into this whole falling in love head over heels kind of crap. She never had. Sure, she was a romantic in her own right but after losing a child and being abandoned by the man she thought she'd grow old with, she no longer believed in fairy tales.

And that was not what this was. This wasn't a fairy tale because it was anything but pretty or perfect. They were two damaged people who had found a common ground and sometimes, even the most damaged people needed to be with someone who reminded them they were more than just broken pieces.

"I just want to feel again," Christa whispered against Leanne's shoulder. "I just want to feel."

Leanne didn't answer but instead kissed her way down from Christa's shoulder down to her collar bone and towards her breasts. Christa's skin felt warm under her hands. It had been a long time since she had felt another body against her own.

She'd tried a few times but always drew back at the last minute. They didn't understand her pain, her reluctance to let her guard down just long enough to let remnants of her own self shine through, and so she would close herself off and excise herself, leaving whatever date she'd picked up for the night and hurrying back to the emptiness and silence of her home. Or her house, as it was no longer a home now that the sounds of children's voices no longer echoed around the rooms.

She had become indiscriminate about her partners when she tried, but she preferred women. They were softer, kinder and more understanding. It was less about themselves and more about each other, whereas men would become offended and irritated when she asked for space and time. And women felt different, both under her hands and in her mind. It wasn't something she had considered before she lost her family but now it seemed it was the only logical thing left, even if she didn't understand why.

Softly, she whispered against Christa's skin, "I need to forget."

"Then let me help you," Christa breathed. Her hand slipped under Leanne's chin and she lifted up the brunette's face. Their gazes locked and the sounds of the night before, the cries and the pleas, vanished into the background. Faces faded into blurs and for a few precious moments, it was only them.

Here they could forget. Here they could simply be.

Start over. Pretend it never happened. All of it. None of it. Whichever they preferred. Both or neither.

But they could, for a while at least, forget.

~()~

When she woke, the sunlight fell through the open curtains and over the bed. The clock on the bedside table indicated it was just after one o'clock in the afternoon. In five hours, her next shift would start.

Slowly she grew aware of the presence of another body and carefully she turned her head. Leanne was still asleep. She lay on her side, the sheets pulled up to her shoulders, and her arm was draped over Christa's waist. Christa sighed and relaxed into the other woman's warm body. Leanne's fingers briefly flexed across her stomach. The touch was soft and gentle and Christa's breath hitched. Her hair was tousled and her body smelt of sex. She knew she should get up, walk away from all of this, go home and have a shower, but the warmth drew her deeper into the covers, deeper into Leanne, and she didn't move. She felt Leanne's fingers circle over her C-section scar and eyes closed again and she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke again, the room was darker. She blinked and her eyes darted to the clock. Four fifteen. She sat up with a jolt, startled, and looked around. Only then did she realise she had slept solidly for three hours since her earlier wake-up and several solid hours before that. She hadn't slept this much or this solidly since her son became ill.

"Hey."

Shocked, she realised the voice came from beside her and she turned to find Leanne, her head propped up into the palm of her hand and sheets wrapped around her, looking at her.

Christa swallowed. "Errr... Hi."

"I thought about waking you but you looked like you needed the sleep." Leanne's voice was soft and her eyes were warm. "How long has it been?"

"What do you mean?"

"How long has it been since you slept for more than a couple of hours? Slept without nightmares?"

Christa didn't answer. She didn't know. _Too long_.

"We have a few hours before our shift starts," Leanne pointed out. She shifted a little under the sheets and her toes brushed against Christa's leg. The touch should have felt uncomfortable but it didn't. "We could maybe grab a bite to eat? Coffee, breakfast?"

Christa studied Leanne's face for a moment. Her features seemed softer in this light, like something had been erased. "Ok." She became increasingly aware of the fact that they were both naked, that she could feel Leanne's body, could feel the heat. Her cheeks reddened a little as she remembered Leanne's body in all its glory laid out before her. She had been so incredibly beautiful and right now, with the sunlight dancing over her hair and her face bare of make-up and the little lines around her eyes narrowing as she smiled, she still was just as beautiful.

Christa sheepishly smiled. "Do you... Do you want to take a shower first?"

"Sure." Leanne threw back the covers and sat up.

Christa averted her eyes when Leanne padded around the bed to the bathroom. When she dared to look up for just a moment, because she just couldn't help herself, she caught a glimpse of Leanne's naked body disappearing into the bathroom. The shower was switched on moments later and Christa rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. The sheets smelt of Leanne and she let her fingers ghost over the other pillow.

~()~

It had been a long day but no one died. She saved a woman's life by performing an emergency tracheotomy and watched Leanne become the only thing that stood between life and certain death for a man who's aorta was about to rupture. Together they dealt with a guy with six stab wounds. All day they moved around each other with an effortless efficiency that raised some eyebrows among the staff. Leanne didn't have to finish her sentences because Christa was ahead of her and Christa found Leanne watching her from the other side of the ER after she dealt with an accidental drug overdose in a seventeen year old girl.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened earlier that morning and Christa didn't respond when Mario pointed out that 'Doctor Rorish seemed to be in a particular good mood' that morning and Leanne told Mama Jesse to mind his own business when he asked her how she had slept. But he'd just smiled and reminded Leanne, "Nothing happens round here that Mama doesn't know about."

Christa didn't stop to think about the fact that she and Leanne had left the hotel room together and shared a pot of coffee at the diner two blocks away from the hospital. They hadn't talked, preferring to sit in silence instead as they each read the morning paper, but when Christa had been about to get up and leave - because arriving at the hospital together would be a little odd- Leanne had briefly taken her hand and smiled. She had truly smiled.

"Thank you," she'd whispered. "For everything."

And now another shift came to an end. Another night gone, dozens more lives saved but also dozens of lives forever changed, and outside a new dawn had broken over Los Angeles. A day that offered new opportunities to make dreams come true, which was the main reason most people ended up in this city in the first place.

She closed the front door behind her and shrugged herself out of her leather jacket, left it at the bottom of the stairs and kicked off her shoes. She went upstairs, washed her face and brushed her teeth and then crossed the landing to her bedroom. Christa unzipped her jeans and threw them in the hamper, followed by her shirt, bra and panties. She put on a clean pair of panties and picked an oversized baseball shirt from the drawer where she kept her pyjamas, slipped it over her head and then slowly sat down on the bed. As always, her eyes drifted to the picture that she kept on her bedside table. Her little boy smiled back at her, his eyes wide open and blue as the skies on a bright summer's day. Blonde curls fell down his face.

"Goodnight, little guy," Christa whispered and pulled back the sheets. They felt cold and she rolled onto her side, staring at the other pillow. The sheets were cold and they didn't smell of Leanne.

She didn't know how long she'd been lying there when she heard the knock on the front door. Over the years she'd trained herself not to stare at the clock as seeing the time pass without actually sleeping only added to her desperation. She kicked back the sheets and made her way down the stairs. Probably the postman with a delivery. She was awaiting the arrival of a new book.

Christa opened the door, letting the bright Los Angeles morning sunshine into her hall. There, on her doorstep and dressed in black jeans and a light blue shirt, stood Leanne. A brown leather bag hung off her shoulder and she'd tied her hair back into a ponytail. She looked up briefly and they made eye contact. Leanne took in the sight of Christa in the oversized shirt and the tangled blonde hair.

Quietly, she said, "I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

She didn't have to explain it.

Christa stepped aside to let her. She closed the door and turned to Leanne. Neither of them spoke but she just took Leanne's hand and led her up the stairs.

Leanne stripped off her jeans and shirt, and wearing just a tank top and her panties, she lay down beside Christa on the bed. They were facing each other and Leanne's fingers found Christa's hand. It felt right, being here. It had been the only place she could think of when she came home and the silence overwhelmed her. She'd closed the door again and gotten back into her car. She couldn't be there anymore. Not today.

Not alone.

When sleep finally claimed them, the nightmares didn't come.


End file.
